


cosmic repose

by Still_sleepless



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Androids, Angst, Artificial Intelligence, Engineering, Engineers, M/M, Outer Space, Space Flight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_sleepless/pseuds/Still_sleepless
Summary: Humanity is hungry. We're fucking ravenous and we're heading for the stars.//Hongjoong builds things that shouldn't exist and Seonghwa will never understand that the height of the stars are only the second most dizzying sight that Hongjoong has ever seen.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	cosmic repose

Humanity is hungry. We've been hungry for the longest time, crawling out of our crevices with starvation branded against our tongues, red-hot. We drew in our caves, stone against stone, and we danced around our fires, small but a hint of all that was to come. The spinning wheel, the organisation of primitive hordes, the art of love. All these were one step of an unstoppable chain, one that speaks of paleolithic advance, amongst silver and negative space.

Humanity is hungry. We're fucking ravenous and we're heading for the stars. 

The ends of existence won't be enough.

We will never be satisfied. 

  
*

  
Hongjoong is standing in a rain shower, chilled water forming droplets against his skin. The rain is falling through a filter, an atmospheric barrier that allows water to be safe for people walking in the streets. It's a necessity as rainwater in it's natural state is no longer harmless enough for prolonged exposure. The result is relaxing and Hongjoong feels the edges of sleep creep up on him to pull at his eyelids.

It's only when he feels a hand clasp at his elbow that he realises he'd dozed while still standing upright. 

"You're going to catch a cold," Seonghwa says, urgent as he tugs at Hongjoong, but Hongjoong doesn't move even as the cold starts to make itself be known. "You're impossible," Seonghwa continues, exasperation evident in his voice despite the smile on his face. Seonghwa shrugs off his jacket and tries to wrap him in it but Hongjoong walks out of reach and his hands meet empty space. 

The facility takes up a lot of land, expanding in both directions, and the floodlights haven't been turned on so Hongjoong can barely see the other's face, but he can hear his disappointment at Hongjoong's evasion and it's almost like disappointing a child - there's a sense of shame even in knowing that you're doing the right thing.

Hongjoong wants to say _you'll catch a cold_ because it's an easy excuse, one that doesn't invite further questions but he can't make himself say the words. They feel too much like a lie.

_They are._

The words that come out instead are, "I'm fine." He smiles and he's certain Seonghwa can see the glimmer of what he really is, hidden behind the pink of his gums. 

All this vacant space, stretching out as far as they can both see but time has narrowed to only this one moment.

All this space, yet the only remaining way is up.

They're both drenched. Hongjoong's shirt is sticking to his skin and he tries to ignore the discomfort. His face must betray him and when Seonghwa says, "at least come inside," he only nods, taking one last look at the constellations. The Northern Cross blinks back at him, brighter than it has any right to be.

Tonight the stars bleed portent, and Hongjoong ignores the part of him which whispers _harbinger_ and follows Seonghwa inside with eager steps, leaving the sky and it's stories behind.

The world - their world - inside the Nightlight Creatives Facility is one that's carved out of stainless steel and anodised aluminium. It's an impersonal place, large enough for their steps to echo as they head for the lifts. Everything is coloured in silver, so it's sometimes hard to tell up from down, especially when Hongjoong is lacking sleep - which is often.

"You should sleep soon," Seonghwa advises while avoiding his eyes, staring straight ahead. His posture as severe as it always is and Hongjoong feels himself straighten up in reaction, not one to be outplayed in any situation. 

"I'll sleep when our workload is done," Hongjoong says, feeling the usual of curve of his spine return, the pervasive evidence of years at a desk. He utters a silent curse and takes on a nonchalant demeanor, chancing a sideways glance at Seonghwa who's yet to move.

The numbers on the floor indicator keep climbing and Hongjoong focuses on the _beep_ that signals as they pass each floor. With a jolt that he'll never get used to, the lift stops in place and lets out another 3 beeps in consecutive order - the hue of the interior momentarily changing in correspondence with each signal.

_Purple_

_°_

_Pink_

_°_

_Green_

Hongjoong can't help looking at Seonghwa again in that last moment. He's awash in green, the green of the leaves, the green of envy - but in his face - Hongjoong only sees the green of the seas, waves crashing against them in the harshest of elements.

 _22_. 

They've reached their floor.

The doors open with a slight shudder and Hongjoong finally turns, mischief lacing his expression. "Is that your roundabout way of saying that you'll never sleep?" He doesn't wait for an answer and glides out into the plains of glass and litracon that awaits.

The meaning of his words take an embarrassingly long second to process and when they do Hongjoong is left scoffing all by his lonesome, unwilling to rush ahead with a retort.

At his own pace, Hongjoong also walks out and shields his eyes from the shots of bright light curving from the overhead beams, too strong for this time of night. The hum of electric machinations greets him, the entire open floor a marvel of scientific feats produced by some of the best minds that Hongjoong has ever met.

Many of those same minds have already gone home to the comfort of their own beds. Though, just across the way, in Seonghwa's workroom, he knows that most of his team are busy patching bugs in the software which he had pointed out in their afternoon stand-up meeting. 

_I should go help them out,_ Hongjoong decides, knowing that the workload might be considerably lightened if he were to apply himself. Upon making the decision, he trudges over to the doors and holds out his wrist in front of the SELTECH scanner, waiting for the discomfort that comes before the doors open, tensing his body his anticipation.

The discomfort doesn't come. Hongjoong relaxes but in it's stead, confusion floods his body and he bends to eye-level with the scanner. It's not one of his own creations but he knows that the transmitter can't be at fault - not when the others had no problem. Hongjoong lifts his wrist, looking at the slight circular rise in his skin, under which is the identity chip that they're all fitted with by senior techs upon arrival. 

"If it's not the transmitter then my receiver must have a fault, one that prevents intake of the ultrasonic pulse..." Hongjoong finds himself muttering to himself, already trying to mentally troubleshoot the issue and running through multiple possible solutions. That is, until he hears a knock from the door. Hongjoong stands back up to peer in the glass panel through which he can see Seonghwa, along with Yeosang and San. 

Just above the door is a signage, bold print spelling out Aether, the moniker that Yeosang had enthusiastically dubbed their team, and Hongjoong lets his eyes linger momentarily before focusing again on the room.

Seonghwa is waving his hands about gesturing at Hongjoong in a way that shouldn't feel insulting, yet does. "Go to sleep," Seonghwa says, making the universal sign for sleep, eyes creasing in a familiar way. 

It dawns on Hongjoong that his team are becoming increasingly insolent by the day, and that they probably don't deserve his aid. Still - he presses closer to the door, trying to convey his disdain as best he can. "Park Seonghwa, open the doors," he tries to say in a measured tone, but _doors_ comes out strangled as unbridled irritation swells in the hollow of his throat. 

"Nope," Seonghwa replies, cut-and-dry in it's simplicity but maddening in delivery; Seonghwa's eyes twinkling as he scans Hongjoong's face for his reaction. 

There's a moment where it seems like he might grimace, lips twitching when his gaze falls across the sallow spots on Hongjoong's face, the spaces that sink just a bit too much, a testament to all the sleepless nights and all the hard work he's put in to reach this platform. Then he's back to that smile, the one that Hongjoong has imprinted behind his eyelids, the smile that he could draw out with ease - _has_ drawn out with ease.

" _Open the_ -" Hongjoong starts to say, again before Seonghwa disappears, ducking down so Hongjoong can no longer see him and instead, he's left looking at both Yeosang - who's turned away to stifle his amusement - and San who laughs outright. 

He waits for Seonghwa to pop back up but nothing happens except for Yeosang finally breaking into laughter too and Hongjoong might be seen as a bit of a masochist but he's not willing to further endure this torture. He spins on his heels and marches away, waving one hand in the air as he goes.

Of course, he's not going to sleep.

Through a heavy door of chrome, lays Hongjoong's office. He switches on the lights with a sigh, settling on a bright blue that hurts his eyes, in order to deter sleep. At his desk, the plaque that says _Dr Kim_ looks neon until he blinks. Hongjoong pulls out a towel and wipes himself down, feeling the tendrils of sleep crawl up again but resolutely ignores the call and instead balances his chin on one hand and begins to debug some code that's been on the team to-do list for two days. 

He wakes up like that, blue lights bleeding into his brain, jolting as his hand slips, two or three hours later. The lights have been switched off except for a lamp on his desk and Hongjoong goes to wipe at his drool when he realises that there's a weight on his back. He pulls at the material - letting out a startled breath upon realising that it's Seonghwa's. The urge to curse is strong but Hongjoong restrains himself. Instead he releases his grip and the jacket drops to the floor, soundless but that doesn't stop him from flinching. 

When sleep comes again, he dreams of rain that soothes and a smile that burns. 

  
*

  
Morning breaks, the sky clearer for the spread of the rain and Hongjoong dreads having to see the others after yesterday's debacle. Somehow, he musters up the part of him that doesn't care about trivialities and holds it tight enough to leave his office and enter the lounge where San is sipping coffee with Seonghwa. 

The air is icy, early morning air settling against their skin and Hongjoong shivers slightly before smiling, too wide, and joining them on the couch. 

"Morning, Hongjoong," San says, poorly veiled amusement lining his features as he hands Hongjoong his coffee, still hot. 

Hongjoong pretends that he doesn't notice and takes the mug with one hand, grateful for caffeine wake-up call and slouching further back as he takes the first sip, heat slipping into his stomach, like something vaguely serpentine and wholly comforting.

He's content to just stay like this, staring at the ceiling, to listen to the others talk as a passive bystander. San, though, can never get the hint -- or maybe he does, and just chooses to torture Hongjoong for fun.

"We were just discussing the capability of the SELTECH scanners, yesterday reminded me that they're due for an upgrade," San says, mouth working to get the words out quick before he hides his face behind his mug. 

Seonghwa coughs conspicuously but it sounds like a snort at Hongjoong's expense and _really_ , this is not the relaxing morning Hongjoong has been hoping for.

He groans, unable to hold back the embarrassment. "Are you _making fun_ of me?" He asks, pinning San with the most threatening glare he can muster, which isn't saying much, not at 8 in the morning with eyebags that could currently rival the Mariana Trench. 

To save the situation, Seonghwa chimes in with a light tone, too much like honey, and says "Actually, it wasn't farfetched for you to have blamed the scanner. Yeosang said that his chip has been acting up." It's clearly something said to appease Hongjoong's ego but Seonghwa has lost the mirth in his eyes and gestures towards San.

"Mine too, actually. I wasn't sure if it was of enough importance to tell you, but it's pretty hit-and-miss with my chip sometimes. We both has them installed by Chanhee before he left." San looks as if he's remembering something that leaves a bad taste in his mouth, a   
slight frown etched out like stone. 

"He was ever-so-slightly senile towards the end." He adds, glancing at Seonghwa who wasn't there to see the unfortunate mental decline.

"It sounds like both you and Yeosang need to get that _fixed_. We don't need any unnecessary complications." Seonghwa's words are directed at San but it's Hongjoong whom he looks at, looking for something that he can't provide.

_Confirmation? Approval?_

"Seonghwa, you're so _lucky_. Didn't Hongjoong install yours?" San asks, curious even when he already knows the answer.

Seonghwa glances back at Hongjoong, smile jagged and pleased and the memory comes unbidden, floating through in fragments -- all that Hongjoong has tried to forget.

_Seonghwa on the table_

_A scalpel that isn't really a scalpel_

_Seonghwa opening his eyes_

Hongjoong flinches back as if he's been burned. It _feels_ as if he's been burned but they don't notice, already talking about how it's been nearly two years since Seonghwa became an employee at Nightlight Creatives.

_Two years._

Two years is a long time. It's time that Hongjoong will never be able to outrun.

Placing his mug down, Hongjoong interrupts their conversation, wanting to be gone, an itch surfacing itself at the thought. "Seonghwa, you can do the operations," he says, realising a beat late just how abrupt his timing was.

"What?"

"Yeosang and San. You can perform their retrofits," he clarifies, trying to seem sure in his assertions. 

Seonghwa gazes without speaking, a visage of concentration as he tries to figure out Hongjoong's intentions. "Why? I'm hardly a senior at the company. You should do it." 

The timing was definitely all wrong. This is not a conversation that should be held in the lounge, for anybody to see the way Seonghwa questions Hongjoong.

 _This is my burden to bear._ Hongjoong thinks, as much a martyr as ever.

He schools his expression into one that can't be reproached, replying with a hardened voice, "I'm too busy to do it. Besides, you're absolutely fully capable of performing a simple retrofit." For good measure, he continues, "And I won't entertain any questions on this."

On the other side of Seonghwa, San makes a face that seems to mean _you're overdoing it_ and Hongjoong deflates, hyperaware of Seonghwa's every movement.

He stands up and looks down on both of them. "I've got a 9AM to get to." Hongjoong takes a half-step away before remembering the jacket in his hand and he peels ot away, the leather sticking to his palm from having held it too tight. "This is yours." He thrusts his hand out in front of Seonghwa's face, who takes it with a surprising tentativeness.

Then Hongjoong marches away, to a 9AM meeting which doesn't exist. His coffee remains mostly undrunk, mug left on the table, but the serpent that it let loose hasn't disappeared and Hongjoong can't help but think that it means something. 

  
*

  
The 9AM meeting didn't exist but Hongjoong has a meeting coming up on Friday, one that causes him to feel nauseous and all his efforts are hereby placed into preparing for meeting _Eden_. The CEO of this maligned company. 

He shouldn't think that way. This job has given Hongjoong more freedom than any he's had before and the pay is _amazing_ , Yeosang's Maserati can attest to that - the latest addition to his car collection, a lifestyle that is supported by their competitive field.

Hongjoong is a hypocrite, he knows. You can't criticise the very institute that you're in, the very institute you're a willing participant in upholding and yet...

And yet? There's not right answer to that sentence. 

Hongjoong is a hypocrite, plain and simple. That was established the moment he gave up his morals and entered this hellhole. Sure it looks good, pretty veneer all over the building, all over them. Yeah, it's not like the employees are taken advantage of in anyway. People fight to get even an interview.

Make no mistake, though. This place is festering and Hongjoong will probably never leave even in knowing this.

Money. It's what we all want. Hongjoong pretends to be different but an ideology falls pretty fast when presented with a cheque that's good enough.

So, Hongjoong has to be on his best behaviour for Eden.

For the most part, he withdraws inwards, taking care of his own work without much interference from the others. Five days pass like that until it's Friday morning and Hongjoong is jittery in the way that he always is whenever he has to meeting Eden but that doesn't stop him from waiting outside the Procedure Room, where Seonghwa has been spending the last two hours working on the retrofits that San and Yeosang so desperately need.

There's 20 minutes until Hongjoong has to leave but he can't make himself move, feeling the need to see them. So, he exhales in relief when the heavy doors open. San lumbers out and he's followed by Yeosang whose steps are equally as heavy. Their right wrists are red, ripe with pain even under the clear gauze that's been wrapped with careful precision. Hongjoong tries not to look at his own wrists, wisp-thin from all the missed-meals over the past few months.

Yeosang stops to bow but then continues along with San, both of them too out of it from the anesthesia. A handler appears from the shadows, part of the medic team, and takes them both by the arms -- to hand them off to a company chauffeur presumably, sleep is essential right now and they deserve to go home.

Hongjoong feels a phantom ache of his own and has to close his eyes to ground himself. The slight shuffle of something directly ahead has him startling and his vision falls upon Seonghwa, who's looking down with an overwhelming amount of concern.

A moment passes and Hongjoong feels like he should congratulate him on the successful retrofit but Seonghwa shakes his head with vehemence. 

"Why are you here?"

That's not _really_ what Hongjoong had been expecting and he's left looking gormless, something he will look back on later and wince at.

You can pinpoint the exact moment where Seonghwa realises how harsh he seems. His features undergo an immediate change, the lines in his face smoothing out and shoulders dropping into a less imposing stance. 

"I mean - you're obviously tired and I know you've been stressed about meeting Eden." Seonghwa's voice becomes distinctly quiet when saying _Eden_ , leaning in as he does so, enough for Hongjoong to smell the flowery cologne he wears but doesn't need. "You didn't need to come," he finishes, moving back to an appropriate distance, taking the flowers with him.

It's like there's a brief short-circuit in Hongjoong's brain (he can acknowledge the irony) that renders his Broca's area useless. He fumbles, in a way that he never used to. "I wanted to make sure you didn't kill Yeosang," is what he comes up with, a vaguely offensive insult of Seonghwa's skills. 

Hongjoong can't imagine how he'll hold up against Eden, not with how tense he is.

Luckily, Seonghwa is as solid as steel and recovers with considerable ease. "What? Do you hate San that much?" He grins, starting to walk, forcing Hongjoong to follow. 

"He has his good days," Hongjoong replies, despising himself for enjoying the conversation. There's a depravity about this, about them.

_About me._

That's the sordid truth, the one that pushes him on, to glance at his watch and feign surprise, to say " _I'm late_ ," before spinning off without giving Seonghwa the chance to respond, rushing towards the conference cluster, an area of warm tones and too many paintings.

Eden isn't here yet. Of course, Hongjoong arrives five minutes early, the ache from earlier now drawing up to his shoulders, getting closer to the jugular. He has to recoup, breathing slow to stop replaying his failures, the mistakes he's made - keeps making.

That's how Eden finds him, exactly five minutes later, looking down at him with sceptical eyes. 

"Sir." Hongjoong has to clear his throat of the insecurity that always crops up at times like this, bowing slightly, even as Eden tells him not to.

The lights dim slightly, to allow for the presentation, and Eden takes a seat, tossing his folder on the table before leaning back and looking at Hongjoong with an expectant gleam. 

"Go on."

It's halfway through his report that Hongjoong realises that Eden _isn't_ paying attention. Not really. He's watching Hongjoong's slideshow, one that recounts the last three months of work that Hongjoong's team has achieved. The report is important and is essential in getting Eden to approve bigger budget allowances and consider different research avenues. However, he can't help but falter upon registering the disinterest that Eden is currently exuding. 

He finally drops the act and makes a _cut_ sign, one hand swiping through the air and Hongjoong falls silent; watching with rapt attention as Eden sits up and smiles in a practiced way, teeth exceptionally white and straight enough to have to be veneers. 

"I appreciate the obvious effort you've put into today," he starts, hands steepled in a way that seems _too_ professional and almost pandering. "I've been overseeing the work that you've been doing and I have to say, I'm impressed with the developments you've made on the anti-subversion software for Maddox. He hasn't stopped singing you praises."

The memory of Maddox drifts back and Hongjoong has to stop himself from frowning. A man only five years his senior, who micro-managed every decision that Hongjoong had made. In the end, the results were great but Hongjoong chooses not to mention how Maddox has been calling every other day, trying to offer a _very_ high position at STANTRA COMMUNICATIONS. 

_Rich men have a penchant for that, for buying others with their money._

"Which is why I'm assigning you a new project." The fan above them turns on, soundless and the room fills up with cold air while Eden grins with benevolence. Hongjoong smiles back, tentative though he knows that this is a rare honour. Eden rarely bothers with the work assignments personally, leaving it to mid-level admin.

"I'm assuming you're aware that Jeong Yunho has requested our company's assistance? I know that rumours of HOURGLASS inc. have been flying around amongst the employees." Eden doesn't look at him while saying this, searching for something in his files. When it seems like he's found it, he finally deigns to scan over Hongjoong's expression, noting the discomfort that's settled atop his brow, weighing down his features.

Eden doesn't comment on it and continues, "I've thought about it hard and I'm giving you the task of working for Jeong. Drop all other projects, they'll be shifted to other teams starting from tomorrow-"

"I appreciate the honour, sir but I'll have to decline," Hongjoong interrupts, slipping into a seat opposite and resenting the fact storming out isn't an option no matter how much he may want to. 

"What?" 

Hongjoong ignores the overwhelming disbelief dripping from that one syllable and powers on. "I know you think that my sense of morality is both suspect and inconsistent but I just can't compromise on this. What Jeong Yunho is doing goes against what I feel is right," Hongjoong says, tone pathetic even to his own ears.

" _Jeong Yunho_ is a major client who _chose_ our company. This case will give us a foothold into the global stage, Hongjoong." Eden has stood up, dark air coming loose from where he's tied it and falling into his face with the movement. Hongjoong sees the change, minute as it is, the moment where he crosses from _friend_ into something more sinister, more powerful. "I know that you think that the creation of space residency is immoral and the ultimate display of capitalistic evils, but if you hate it so much then why don't you _quit_?"

_I'm weak._

When Hongjoong doesn't respond, Eden sighs, tying his hair back again before sitting down and, more quietly this time, speaking. "They need people to send up. You're going to be building whatever they want."

"But-"

"It makes sense. Aether is perfect. Yeosang graduated top of his class in mechanical engineering, San doubles in both electrics and communication. You're the best AI analyst I've met and I don't even need to talk about Seonghwa, _you're_ the one who brought him into the company and I trust your choice blindly. Face it Hongjoong. You might pretend to to want to put up a fight, but you're going to give in."

He throws the case briefing towards Hongjoong, TREASURE COLONIES in large print across the front. Eden is already moving on from this situation and onto the next. "So, just save me some time and give in already."

Hongjoong really is a hypocrite, this is one truth that can't be changed.


End file.
